


Distraction

by startwithsparks



Series: MMOM 2014 [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Art School, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Skinny Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2127861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startwithsparks/pseuds/startwithsparks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky offers to help Steve with some life-drawing practice, and predictably things spiral straight towards sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distraction

Steve ducked under the narrow awning, his jacket hoisted over his head to keep himself from getting assaulted by the mid-spring storm. He was grateful that he could press himself against the building to keep dry while he fumbled his apartment keys from his pocket and into the lock, considering Bucky was standing two feet away from him looking like someone had just dumped a bucket of water over his head. He gave the door a faint shove with his shoulder, wincing a bit as it unstuck, and hurried inside into the, albeit stuffy, dry apartment. Bucky slid in behind him, shaking rain from his hair with one hand while he swung the door shut behind him with the other.  
  
Between struggling out of wet clothes and shoes and Bucky making a beeline towards the kitchen, neither one of them said anything for a few moments, not until after Steve dropped his bag down on the couch and flopped next to it with a soft sigh.  
  
"You want a beer?" Bucky asked, sticking his head up over the refrigerator door where he was ducked down rifling for something to eat.  
  
Steve tipped his head back, "Considering it's my beer?" he said, "Sure."  
  
He could hear the sound of bottles clinking together over Bucky's faint chuckle, and shook his head. "You know," Bucky started, "you'd still have the same case in here as you did six months ago if it wasn't for me."  
  
"Exactly," he called back. He didn't really mind; Bucky was the one who kept his refrigerator full more often than not. It was the benefit of him having a job while Steve was still struggling his way through school and trying to keep a roof over his head at the same time. Any frills that found their way into his life were always because of Bucky. Steve couldn't really complain about him always coming over looking to snag a beer and a sandwich.  
  
Bucky finally made his way back to the living room, sliding Steve's bag off the couch to sit down next to him. He easily pried the caps off the bottles and handed one over to Steve with a grin.  
  
"Find anything good in there?" he asked.  
  
"Nope," Bucky shook his head, "but that's nothing new. You really should eat more than just toast from time to time."  
  
"Says the guy who has never made a meal for himself in his life, unless you count opening a beer bottle," Steve replied, tipping his own bottle towards Bucky indicatively, before taking a swig.  
  
"There aren't a lot of perks of being in the army, but that's one of them."  
  
Steve rolled his eyes and settled back against the arm of the couch, trying to look like he took up more space than he did. It had to be subconscious for him, but Bucky had noticed it when they were kids and it still amused him.  
  
He bumped Steve's knee with his own, "So how was class?"  
  
Steve shrugged, "It was alright," he said. "I got a note from one of my professors that I had to work on my realism, though."  
  
Bucky furrowed his brows, "Don't you have classes for that?"  
  
"Life drawing?" he said, "Yeah, but it's a room full of people and one of them is always naked, it's a little hard to concentrate."  
  
Bucky snorted, "I can imagine. You mean _completely_ naked, though? I sort of figured that was just a rumor."  
  
"Yeah," Steve nodded, "I don't know where they find the volunteers for that, but I can't help but think whoever they are, they're probably doing worse in their classes than any of us and need the extra credit."  
  
Bucky wasn't overly fazed by nudity, when you lived in close quarters with a bunch of other guys, you sort of got used to it, but he wasn't entirely sure he'd be able to concentrate with a naked girl in front of him either. Steve may have been able to hide it better, but he certainly wasn't any less affected by those kinds of things. Still, Bucky figured he might be able to help.  
  
"I'll do it," he shrugged.  
  
Steve looked over at him, confused. "What?"  
  
"I'll model for you if you need the practice. It's not like we've got other plans for tonight, and surely you've seen me naked enough by now that it won't be a problem." He took another drink then set his beer on the side table, already set on not taking no for an answer, and pushed himself off the couch. "Come on," he said, starting to pull his teeshirt off over his head, "where do you want me."  
  
"Bucky, you really don't have to."  
  
"It's fine," he chucked his shirt down on the couch. "Get your stuff out and tell me what to do."  
  
Steve stared at him for a while, then shook his head and reached down for his bag. "I'm just not entirely sure you can sit still for that long."  
  
"Oh fuck off," Bucky laughed, peeling off his socks and adding them to the pile where his undershirt and belt now lay as well. He undid his pants and shoved them down, "I'm sure I can manage."  
  
"Alright, uh..." Steve slid his hand through his hair and glanced around the small apartment. "Just sit somewhere you're going to be comfortable."  
  
Bucky shrugged and pushed his shorts down to join his pants around his ankles, stepping out of both and kicking them aside. He dumped the rest of his clothes on the floor with them and sat down on the couch, his body angled in the corner and one arm outstretched along the back. "How's this?"  
  
Steve glanced briefly at him as he flipped to a clean sheet of paper, "Could you maybe do something with your legs?"  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Cross them, or something?" Steve asked.  
  
Bucky complied, sort of. He was sure Steve was talking about something a bit more demure, because draping his ankle over his knee and letting his legs splay wide was probably not what Steve had in mind.  
  
"I think that's worse," he sighed, and Bucky grinned back at him.  
  
"You've gotta be more specific," he laughed.  
  
Steve didn't say anything, he just hunkered down in the opposite corner of the couch, his legs tucked under him and his notebook pressed against his lap. For a few minutes he kept glancing over at Bucky without putting anything down, but then slowly his pencil started gliding across the paper, his attention steadily becoming more precise. Bucky had watched him work before, but never quite from this angle. It was a bit of a strange feeling, not quite like scrutiny, but he was definitely more aware of his body than he ever had been in the past. He'd been sort of flippant in his offer, thinking that it wouldn't be hard to sit naked in front of Steve, but now that he was actually doing it, there was some unexpected effort required in keeping still. Being exposed like this made him a little fidgety.  
  
"How's it going over there?" he asked, hoping that conversation would prove enough of a distraction.  
  
"Fine," was Steve's only reply.  
  
"Am I more or less difficult to draw than other naked people?"  
  
A small smile twitched at the corner of Steve's lips, "Well, right now you're being more difficult, most models don't talk."  
  
"How can they stand that?" Bucky asked, starting to cant his head to the side before remembering he was supposed to be holding still. "It's unnerving."  
  
"It was your idea," Steve reminded him. "Now could you shut up for two minutes?"  
  
Bucky pressed his lips together, staring across the couch at the other man. The more he looked, the more he could tell that he wasn't the only one having trouble sitting still. Steve kept making these minute movements, shifting his paper, leaning forward or back, things that other people might have overlooked. But Bucky knew how to read him better than anyone. Even the way Steve chewed on the inside of his lower lip got his attention. He had to concentrate on _something_ after all and considering he was the one who was being stared at he figured it only fair to stare at Steve in return.  
  
The most interesting thing was that the longer they went on like this, the more flustered Steve seemed to get.  
  
"I think you've spent a solid ten minutes on that one foot," Bucky said.  
  
Steve glanced up at him, "I need the practice," he replied, and started to go back to drawing when Bucky shifted, just slightly, and brought his left hand up from where it had been resting on his thigh. "Would you stop moving?" Steve asked.  
  
"If you're just drawing my foot, then it shouldn't matter what I'm doing up here," Bucky retorted, dropping his hand down between his legs. A blush quickly flooded Steve's face, and Bucky smirked. That was exactly the reaction he'd been hoping to get when he wrapped his hand around himself.  
  
"You're being incredibly difficult right now."  
  
"I can't help it," Bucky shrugged, "It's surprisingly difficult to hold still with you staring at me. I figured it might help to take care of that extra energy."  
  
"It's not helping," Steve muttered. "And I'm starting to think you're doing this on purpose."  
  
"Now why would I do that?"  
  
Steve rolled his pencil between his fingers, "Maybe because you're a jerk?"  
  
He wasn't wrong. Bucky leaned back a little more and cocked his hips forward just enough that, without drastically changing position, he could make more room for himself to move. If it gave Steve more to look at, then that was just an added benefit. "I can move slower," he offered, "if you want to draw this too."  
  
"I don't think that would go over well with any of my instructors."  
  
"I never said you had to turn it in."  
  
Steve dragged his lower lip between his teeth and finally looked up, gaze landing on Bucky's face for a moment before he let himself glance down to where he was still slowly jerking himself off. He swallowed hard, trying not to stare, but when every moment Bucky made just gave him all the more reason _to_ stare, it was hard to find a reason to stop himself. Steve shifted uncomfortably, pressing his notebook harder into his lap.  
  
"You want to come over here?" Bucky offered, "I promise I'll behave myself after this."  
  
"I doubt that," Steve replied, but he had already started to move his notebook off his lap and onto the floor, still trying to hide the obvious bulge in his pants.  
  
He fumbled for a moment with the buttons on his shirt before Bucky reached out and pulled him closer by the front of his shirt. Steve braced himself on Bucky's knees while the other man unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his shoulders, then went to the front his pants. He took his time undressing him, fingers skimming across each newly-exposed bit of skin before moving to the next. Now it was Steve who was having a difficult time keeping still, trying to hurry Bucky along by stripping out of his undershirt and socks and pushing Bucky's hands away so he could get out of his shorts.  
  
He had never been particularly coy about this part of things, always too eager and maybe a little too impulsive as well. Even the first time, it was Steve who'd drunkenly started things by leaning over and pressing his lips to Bucky's, much like he did now. He managed to steady himself with his hands on Bucky's shoulders as he climbed into the other man's lap, still kissing him. It was like he had to throw himself into something completely to keep himself from backing out, from giving himself enough time to figure out why this might be a bad idea or why he might be better off doing whatever he was doing before. Bucky had never let him get to that point, and he wasn't about to this time either.  
  
He grabbed onto Steve's hips and dragged him closer until they were pressed up against each other. He broke from the kiss for just long enough to glance between them, and wrapped his hand around them both. Steve hitched his hips forward, pushing deeper into Bucky's grasp and groaning as they slid together.  
  
"Do you still want me to hold still?" Bucky asked.  
  
Steve groaned and shook his head, leaning forward to rest their foreheads against each other. "You're an ass," he panted.  
  
"I don't hear you complaining."  
  
Even if he did have something to complain about, Bucky didn't give him the opportunity. The words were no sooner out of his mouth than he dragged Steve in for another kiss, free hand at the back of his neck to keep him as close. There was no way Steve was going to pull back, of course, not when he was already desperately squirming in Bucky's lap, trying to get himself in just the right position. He panted against Bucky's mouth, fingers digging into his upper arms; once he stopped over thinking everything and let himself go, he could rival Bucky any day in his intensity. But all too often he stayed so far in his own head that it took more than just a touch and a few rough kisses to draw him out again.  
  
It didn't take much more than that though, just the scrape of teeth against Steve's lower lip and the swift swipe of his tongue across the abused flesh before Steve bucked against him and dragged himself away from Bucky's mouth. Bucky dropped his hand to Steve's lower back to hold him in place, his other hand still tight around them both. It only took a few quick moments to get what he wanted with the way Steve groaned and clutched at his arms, his body trembling slightly. It got him every time, the way Steve lost control, arching and scrambling for some for of purchase. He had no hope of lasting any longer.  
  
Once he finally uncurled his fingers and slumped back against the couch, Steve crumpled forward against his chest, breathing heavily. Bucky wrapped his arm around Steve's waist and wiped his other hand off on the undershirt next to him before reaching up and slipping his fingers into Steve's hair.  
  
"So, about that drawing..." Bucky murmured.  
  
Steve grunted, "Shut up."


End file.
